wanted most - tracob

six

A rustling from the kitchen pulled Troye from a surprisingly cozy sleep. He let out a grunt, attempting to stretch only to realise he couldn't move his ankles more than a foot apart. In the light illuminating from the kitchen entrance, a curly headed figured hobbled into the doorway, glancing in.

"Oh. You're awake."

"Mhmm," Troye hummed, but he closed his eyes again and nuzzled down against his pillow.

Jacob flipped on the light in the kitchen, "Well I'm awake, as well. And if I'm up for good, you are too."

Troye scowled, but he used his arms to push himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs back to the floor, "Okay, Agent."

Jacob hobbled further into the room, hunched over slightly and clutching his chest, "Toast for breakfast sound okay again? Also, I'd like to lay some ground rules before I leave."

The thief frowned as he watched Jacob limp to sit down with difficulty on the coffee table, "Are you okay there?"

"My chest is a bit sore, but-" Jacob waved a hand. "Anyway-"

"Okay, then can I say something before you lay your ground rules?" Troye requested.

"No. So rule number one-"

"I think you should stay home today," Troye interrupted anyway, and Jacob blanched at him in surprise.

"Why? My team needs all the help they can get, we've got lots of papers to file, we still have to try and find Grimshaw-"

"Which is why you should stay," Troye insisted. "That sounds stressful. Your team can handle it, you've got a good team. Also, what if you have another bust, or a... what if you have to go to an active scene?"

Jacob scanned Troye's face suspiciously, crossing his arms, "Why do you want me here so much? Quite frankly, if I do stay it's not going to be because you told me to. I'm not going to let some criminal come into my own home and tell me what to do."

Troye held up his hands, "By all means, go out there and hurt yourself further then. I'll stay here and eat your food, maybe find the jewellery, and then I'll try and get these handcuffs off my ankles so I can leave. If you're out of the picture because of your own stupidity then-"

"So you want me out of the picture, then?" Jacob instantly stood up in a threatening manner, but the threat lessened as he slouched back down in pain. "Damn it... I can't pull my chest muscles too tightly."

The thief rolled his eyes, "Go back to bed and call in. I'll make breakfast and bring it to you, if you'd like."

"No," Jacob snapped. "I'm going in."

"Okay," Troye shrugged.

"Okay?" Jacob shook his head in bewilderment.

"Okay, I don't care."

The agent growled and stormed, ineffectively due to his injured chest, into the kitchen, and Troye could hear him on the phone a few moments later calling into work. He smirked at his own cleverness. In all honesty he had cared that Jacob was going to work, because it was an idiotic thing to do if he was only going to be in pain the entire time, but by pretending like he didn't care what Jacob did he'd used reverse psychology and forced Jacob into staying home.

He pushed himself up from the couch, wobbling unsteadily on his handcuffed legs, and then made his way into the kitchen. Jacob hung up the phone as Troye walked past to open the fridge, following him with a look of distrust, "What are you doing?"

"Do you want some eggs on toast?" he asked. "I'm not promising I won't burn anything, but I can try."

Jacob hesitantly backed away to give Troye some space, sitting down at the table instead and picking up the Sherlock Holmes book Troye had left lying flat on the table, "Fine... but if you start a fire I'm going to beat you senseless, injured chest and all. And don't leave my books laying like this. It ruins the bindings."